"Very well; I consent. Listen: Olney Winthrop was suffocated in a deserted mine. He was pushed down by some one with whom he was walking along the lonely road."
She had risen slowly, her hands pressed upon her breast, her eyes wild with terror.
"And the person with whom he was walking," she cried, heavily, pantingly, "was—"
"Leith Pierrepont," he answered, sullenly.
She uttered a little half-strangled cry.
"You are sure," she gasped; "sure?"
"I saw it all," he said, slowly. "I saw them walking, saw them approach the mine, saw the shove, heard the fall and the awful cry as Winthrop reached the bottom. There was no possible way to save him, and Pierrepont knew that when he threw him to his death."
She stood there stonily, the quiet of death growing upon her.
"Can you prove this?" she asked, dully.
"Every word," he returned, cunningly, "if you offer sufficient—inducement. That was not included in the bargain."